


Sehnsucht

by CorvidArywnn



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Drabble and a Half, Gen, Light Angst, Male Solo, Masturbation, Short One Shot, relcutant masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 13:23:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20136136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorvidArywnn/pseuds/CorvidArywnn
Summary: A brief moment in time for Caleb to just rub one out.





	Sehnsucht

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during episode 2x13 Lost and Found, in the wine cellar of the Leaky Tap in Zadash.

Within the earthy smell of dust coated barrels filled with ale, mead and wines. The scents mixing together to bring a bouquet made of stewed fruit, honey and stale bread, a figure of a man found sitting against a wall. Alone in the darkened wine cellar sat Caleb Widogast, with a low drumming hum beating softly from the dodecahedron beside him. Carefully he picks up the skull nearby and speaks in a hushed gravelly tone that only the darkness hears. “Oh, so many secrets, huh, Yorick?” His voice trails off, lost within the shadows enveloping his senses. It had been a while since he was alone with his thoughts, isolated with only himself and a skull to speak to. The banter was quick and filled of questioning ideas of honesty and self reflection. Time moved slowly as he attempted to relax in musty cellar, reflecting on the events that had transpired today and the days prior. His arms itched slightly under the wrappings at the sheer thought of being so close to people who could recognize him. Though he did not give in to the urge to scratch but turned his attention to something else. 

Caleb looked down toward the stiff member in his trousers which seemed to stand strong despite his current state of melancholy and distress. _“Such hin, such her, bis an deinen kühlen tod.”_ He complained towards it, in an exasperated tone of voice. Caleb sat there in the cool darkness, thinking of the terrible actions he had done in his youth. His arms now throbbing with the irritable desire to itch under the wraps. The member however, stayed stiff and strong despite it all. _“Ach, ich bin des Treibens müde! Was soll all der Schmerz und Lust?”_ Caleb groaned softly in Zemnian, his complaint unanswered by Yorick or the darkness around him. In his state of uncomfortable awkwardness, Caleb resigned to a moment of masturbation. 

There was a soft tingle of static electricity as his fingers laced around his cock gingerly. A feeling he begrudgingly enjoyed in this moment. “This nearly foreign feeling, I will not enjoy this. This is just a blip in the plan. Just get this over with and we can continue to watch.” Caleb told himself as he began to stroke his cock in a slow and steady pace. His mind steeled at the idea that this encounter would not be for idle enjoyment but instead an inconvenience. Though the feeling of pleasure began to dull his mind, a shiver trailing up his spine, his hand instinctively picking up the pace only to be halted _“Nien.”_ He gritted and brought his pace back to a slow. “You will not have the best of me, I, I am in charge here.” He muttered to his lower half and squirmed a bit, as the shivers returned. His lips, teeth and tongue feeling static from the desire and longing for more. “I.” Caleb began and kept to the slow pace. “I am in charge, this is my body, I am.” His words halted as a soft moan escaped his lips, the static pulsing feeling running down his spine once more. Caleb’s eyes lulled and his alertness began to drop. His rhythmic rubbing in time to the steps of a waltz, Caleb humming a soft melody of a lullaby from a kinder time in his life. His mind now showing memories of the road traveled, fields of heather in shades of purple and pink. The sunsets and sunrises, the rosy fingers of dawn stretching over the Zemni Fields. The tenuous rubbing continued on as his mind never restful brought along the wave of homesickness. The waves of tall grasses, the scent of fresh wheat being cut in the fields. The sight of linen waving in the wind, with hints of lilac and lavender tickling his nose slightly at the memory. A smile slowly forming on his face before the harshness of grave sins penetrated this moment of blissful calm. The rubbing stopped momentarily with a tight grip upon his member, not allowing for the release to happen just yet. This was not a moment to relax and reminisce but an inconvenience. His heart began to sink as the memories fade, and are pushed back by the sounds of familial laughter being retained and covered once more by the cries and pleas of his parents. Though his cock, relentless and craving release stayed hard within his grip. Caleb begrudgingly continued, eyes open and dancing lights overhead. 

“Oh, sweet Yorick. No, Caleb. I want for naught but potential greatness. Greatness that will bring our dreams of change and difference to fruition. This _sehnsucht_ is fleeting and fancy, not eternal like the fires that burnt away the innocence, familial love and kindness of our past. I am not a praying man, but a man of practical practice and patience willing to outlast time and destiny till my dying breath does escape my chest and leave me a husk like Yorick beside me. I ask for naught but this moment to pass like leaves changing in the seasons and rain into snow. I ask, I crave, I desire this hellish torment of pleasures, desire, craving of touch to end. So that I may find peace, peace in the darkened silence, the darkened silence which brings me comfort I should not know. To be or not to be trapped by my own body and its desires to see me ruin in my mind by the whims of a fleeting moment in time, a passage I cannot , I care not and dare not to travel upon. For I am unlovable, a monster, a murderer. The sins of my past, ashes in the wind that follows me wherever I travel, choking my very self with heat and cries of death. I sleep with a heavy heart and mind filled with a cacophony of screams of the ones I loved. Rest easy, I do not, for each night brings the smell of firewood and burnt linen. Constantly I must be reminded, I have to be reminded, of the mission. My desire to see fates cut and destiny dismantled. I, I want to be free. Free to make my own choices, free to choose my path, free to quench my knowledge of the arcane. If they knew, the truth in all its unforgivable, unfair and unjust form. Would they forgive me, would they ask for my opinion, my assistance, my presence to be among them in the light of the innocent sun. I, I want for something that cannot be but will be done for I am in charge of my own destiny and it shall be willed into existence. For I am filled with an endless desire to bring change in ways many cannot fathom and it will be glorious or it will be my demise.” With bated breath and heavy heart. Caleb, with shaking hand and quivering body. Released all that was held back with swiftness. His cheeks stained with tears released, hand wet from thick viscous ichor of sperm. Body slack against the wall, his head leaning back to look up towards the ceiling. 

_“Scheisse”_ Caleb groaned and felt sick to his stomach. The itching pain returning to his arms, his body tense once more and the new smell emanating from him making the air foul. His stomach began to turn and the sheer thought of what had just transpired. He sat up a bit before wiping the sperm on the inside of his trousers and washing his hand slightly with water from his waterskin. He looked over at the dodecahedron and then over at the skull known as Yorick. Caleb wiped the tears from his face and smeared a bit of dust on his face to coat the slight streaks of clean skin made from the tears. He sat in silence filled with regret and remorse from what he did before sighing. “It will all be worth it, _ja_?” Caleb asked the silence before a familiar and friendly goblin arrived with gifts and words of slight warning. The two went to bed and Caleb dreamed of infinite possibilities and futures.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation notes (Based on order of appearance) :  
Sehnsucht - longing, yearning, or craving. A feeling of yearning for ideal alternative experiences. 
> 
> Such hin, such her, bis an deinen kühlen tod. - Seek here, seek there, Until you are cold in death (From German poem The White Flower by Heinrich Heine)
> 
> Ach, ich bin des Treibens müde! Was soll all der Schmerz und Lust - I am weary with contending! Why this pain and desire? (Der du von dem Himmel bist/ Wanderer's Nightsong I by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe) 
> 
> Nein - No Ja- Yes
> 
> Author Note: This is my first CR fan fic and I've been wanting to write it for months and finally got around to doing it. I picked romantic German poetry that had certain parts in it that felt right to add to this. I used this moment in the episode since Caleb did have all that time to himself and I thought why not really. The flowers I picked have meanings and so does the wheat and linen. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it, if you did, comment and kudos?? If you didn't, I apologize? Regardless You can always send me a comment on twitter @saristrawberry I don't mind the random screech or paragraph of 'Why.' 
> 
> Thank you for reading and have a lovely time of day.


End file.
